Before It Is All Gone( After Guardian)

 

Before It Is All Gone( After Guardian)

Now everything is gone,

Things will change for better,

  Things will move in search of constructive

Aura when high rise and stability would augment,

 

Hope and ease like the peel of banana ripe

would yield more  and  more  bunches,

we  don’t mind hot sun   and running sweat,

while shade  and cool in the offing near soon;

 

optimism strikes skyward while

doubts    tap the door of uncertain anxiety,

green  savannas and pastures in books

untouched for extended lockdown remind us all;

 

how long this burning inward, how far to go

we  don’t know, but this   tearing peace into pieces,

for uncertainty   bottled in burning  burning,

waits  for a burst, to catch normalcy and order.

 

Yonder I see  a  river in full flow,

 Colorful fish swim to the shore.

 

 

Before It Is All Gone( After Guardian)

 

 

 

Before It Is All Gone( After Guardian)

 

Falling (after Guardian)

 

Falling (after Guardian)

 

Breeze of tree

blossoms and flowers

thrill and enchant like

a sorceress the girls,

 

pull them down

their dreams

and downward trend

their soft silken hair

 

falling, falling, falling

like the girls   with

a sweep of smile and smile

pulling them under ;

 

the tree, tree so adamant

draws them  under its spell

so jeopardizing, so charming,

so drowning beyond redemption.

 

 Suddenly a mother, a goddess,

 A helping hand comes,

 A divine wand to  lift them

 all  - breathe anew.

 

 

     

If not Love what is it?

 

) If  not  Love  what is it?    ;

 

In  the  spiraling  heat  of

Summer’s  scorch  and pride

there is  one  construction site

Of  flourish  and  prosper,

Quay  and  concrete slabs

Obstacles yet needed  for

Effecting a  furthering

The workers in uniforms,

Up and  down on the cranes;

The   sturdy   winches

Unforsaking them, loyal to

Their faith move to and fro

 

 

How does my poem arrive? Guardian)

 

How  does  my poem arrive?  Guardian)

 

It comes  fast, the flow comes fast,

not merely with a sip of coffee,

nor with a   melody capturing your heart,

it comes from emotion and reason

without questioning or prying into the shape,

 for shape comes only after  the grand finale,

when, gathering into segments flower a blossom

the sweet aroma comes through words, choicest

  spontaneous from your blood and heart;

vowels and consonants and clusters  integrate,

 certainly no sabotage , it is serene,  a  sort

of  pulse acts, vibrates,  there arrives my poem,

 questioning my aptness of Title, then

appropriate  title  etc, my poem, my inspiration.

 

 

Orchids all in white( Guardian)

 

 

Orchids  all in white( Guardian)

 

When spring dawns as the dawn

of first chirp  of morning’s wake up call,

tilts on  leaves vagrant and vibrant,

whiteness  all round as pure as ray serene,

distinct as birds’ chirping sudden

a wake up melody of collective

 full throated pouring, a plaintive

note from white dove, distinct resounds

all round, unfulfilled love stares  from

the plants, echo of human feel  and flurry,

there  is that complete stardom

from above, from which we all crave and

feel for more and more, more of love

give and take  and peace;

 sediment of unrest and voiceless

failure be gone forever, when coo

of another dove gives a message

of console  and rest. Rest from turmoil

and rig morale, moon in sky

unravels so much for last.